


Under The Sunset - INDEFINITE HIATUS

by TrashBinKrem (BasementTea)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Choking, Father/Son Incest, Force-Sensitive Hux, Forced Crossdressing, Implied Force bond, Incest, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental communication, Mind Link, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Senator Kylo Ren, Slapping, Slow Burnish, Soul Mate AU, Strangulation, Verbal Abuse, disassociation during trauma, force bond dreams, hux name tease, i'm at the point i might as well call this a cinderella au, intergalactic pining, slow soul mark colors, soul mark au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasementTea/pseuds/TrashBinKrem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're husbands. You met on a beach, on Corellia. You were stunned by his hair under the sunset, the way it caught the reflected light off the golden sand. You have never met before that day, and it was a whirlwind romance- The lie is a hard one, floating through Hux's mind. It keeps him grounded, keeps him sane.</p><p>A lie that leeches into Kylo's dreams, stormy grey eyes haunting him. He doesn't know this man, but he can feel him. He can feel his pain. He needs to save him- save his soul mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction - The Golden Beach

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that is going to deal with a lot of heavy, and potentially triggering content. PLEASE read the tags THOROUGHLY before you start to read! They will be updated every time a chapter is posted! There are going to be graphic rape and incest scenes, as well as discussions of abuse, and kidnapping.

Hux had lived like this for as long as he could remember, cooped up inside his father's home, watching his reflection age in his vanity mirror.

When had he gotten so old? He was about to hit his twenty second birthday in only another Galactic Standard month. 

His eyes stayed focused on their own reflection as he sat, feeling the tight collar around his neck, the jeweled necklace pressing into his chin every time he let his posture fall the slightest bit. It looked like just a regular necklace, ornate and golden, wrapping down the column of his neck to his shoulders, where sapphires draped along long chains over his collar bones and down his chest- but he could feel the chip against his adam's apple, a jagged reminder with every breath he took that his father owned him completely.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath as the chime of the front door rang on his holo-display, and he forced himself to stand, double checking his appearance in the mirror.

Like always, he looked perfect.

He screwed the cap onto the dye bottle, replacing it among his many perfumes and make ups, waving his arm to make sure the artificially colored soul mark was dry, not wanting to give his father any reason to be upset with him.

Twenty-two years of this, and he was still alive.

He looked to his bedroom door as it opened, plastering that fake smile on his face and moving forward, reaching out for Brendol as he entered. “You're home-” he said, his voice carried on a fake cheer.

Brendol chuckled, his hands finding Hux's cheeks, cupping his face and forcing his chin up, leaning in and kissing him lightly. It made Hux's stomach roll.

“You look stunning, my love.” the man said eagerly, one hand tracing his fingers down the side of Hux's neck, and to his bicep. It lingered there for a moment, before following the line of his arm to his chest, down his side, where he gripped his hip lightly, resting there.

Goosebumps had followed the finger, though they were born out of something far different than excitement or happiness. It was a wash of fear and suspicion, every time he felt his father's hand, fighting the urge to shake that was building in his stomach, stamping it down with pure force of will.

“Only because you supply me with such finery.” he said gently.

_You're husbands. You met on a beach, on Corellia. You were stunned by his hair under the sunset, the way it caught the reflected light off the golden sand. You have never met before that day, and it was a whirlwind romance-_

His concocted story floated through his mind as he tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes and focusing on anything but the feel of Brendol's lips on his jaw, or his tongue on his ear lobe. He gave a soft gasp when he felt the teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand grabbed onto the man's coat, desperately trying to keep his knees from buckling.

_You're husbands. You met on a beach, on Corellia. You were stunned by his hair under the sunset, the way it caught the reflected light off the golden sand. How that long, raven hair captured the reds and pinks-_

 

_Raven? No- Red. Just like your own, but different._

He parted his lips pliantly when he felt the tongue on them, shuddering, pressing closer to play it off as an eager shiver, his stomach so tight he felt like he would never eat again.

_You're husbands-_

But the words were broken, his eyes squeezing shut a bit harder when he felt the bite on his bottom lip, felt himself being pushed back toward the bed, the silky dress he wore already slipping from his body.

_You're husbands-_

Teeth on his shoulder made him cry out, more surprise than pain, gripping the sheets tight under his hand, his breath already picking up.

_You met on the beach- a golden beach, at sunset. Your soul mark matched the waves behind him-_

He couldn't keep the mental image of it, those hands already questing closer and higher, making his thighs tense, swallowing hard to keep from vomiting. He'd only ever lost it once, and the beating he'd received still made his shoulder ache when it rained.

_You met on a beach, under the sunset-_

His breath hitched, feeling those fingers, hearing the soft flick of a bottle top and having to remind himself not to tense, not to tighten, or it would hurt more than it always did.

He cried out as two fingers thrust into him, pulling at the sheets and turning his face away quickly, breathing hard and ignoring the prick of tears in his eyes at the rough thrusts, Brendol not giving him any time to adjust to the burn.

_You met on a golden beach, under the sunset._

_You're husbands. You've never met this man before._

_This isn't your father._

 

Kylo ran his fingers through his hair, sighing as he looked down at his reports with a tight jaw. He was well overdue for sleep, but he found it more and more elusive with each night that passed. This bill was drawing closer and closer to it's introduction in the Senate, and he'd heard more than his fair share of rumors as to who was or was not supporting it.

He had strong people behind him, and even stronger people behind his fellow Naboo Senator. He could make this work, if only for the people he represented.

Perhaps it'd even garnish enough recognition that he could tear his mother's attention away from her work for a night or two. A family dinner seemed unreasonable to ask for, and yet he couldn't help but wish.

After this was all done, he was overdue for a while deserved vacation. Somewhere opulent and ridiculously priced, if he had any say in it. After all, his dreams had been replaying this constant fantasy, he might as well give into it.

Hopefully the golden beaches of Corellia were as wonderful at sunset as he kept seeing at night.

His dreams felt haunting, almost prophetic, that strange intense pressure of something important. Kylo couldn't put his finger on what it could possibly be. It was the same dream every night for weeks now.

A gold beach at sunset, everything catching the light of the burning sun, pinks and orange and red everywhere.

And then he would turn, like he could hear someone calling out to him, despite not hearing anything. He wouldn't see anything either. A flash of stormy green, like someone staring back at him.

Then it was gone.

A fleeting image, a fleeting thought.

Leaving behind the aching need to find them, whoever he kept seeing, kept reaching for.

Sighing, the Senator pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning forward and propping his elbows up on the desk in front of him.

_He was on a golden beach at sunset-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit cathartic to write. As an abuse survivor myself, rehashing events, and the coping techniques I used can be hard, and it can be very rewarding in terms of my own recovery. Any hateful or rude comments will be deleted. This is being written and posted as a form of self healing.


	2. Tick Tock

Hux was sore, staring up at the ceiling of his room, Brendol's arm slung around his waist, holding him close against the man's chest.

He felt too hot. Stifled and pinned by the dead weight draped half over his chest.

He didn't want to be here anymore.

The ticking of his antique clock gave him something to focus on, something to count away the time with before the alarm would blare, and he would pretend he slept well for his father's benefit.

Hux never slept well.

Dark circles were part of his charm, he kept telling himself. They off set the strange desaturated green of his eyes wonderfully. If it hadn't been for the deep purple bruises at the inner corner of his eyes, he never would have thought to use purple eye shadow to draw out the greens.

He shifted uncomfortably, his lip curling as he shrugged his shoulder hard, trying to dislodge his father's heavy arm on his torso, only to hear the man groan and pull him closer, his grip tighter.

Maybe if he did it again, he would squeeze too tight, and smother him to death.

That was a hope.

He closed his eyes firmly, taking a deep breath and holding it. Forcing himself to listen, to really listen, he let the ticking of that analog clock fill him, ground him, guide him. He could almost feel like he was floating in that ocean he loved to picture so much. If he ignored the crushing weight on him, he would have believed it on the fine silk sheets he slept on.

The ticking was steady, constant, calming.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

_”I told you already, I need the-”_

Hux's eyes snapped open and he turned his head to the side, searching for the source of the sound. Who was speaking? The servants knew better than to disturb his father while they slept.

He strained, trying to pinpoint it, anything. Even the sound of the servant's footsteps.

Nothing.

He swallowed hard, settling back down in the covers, closing his eyes again. Brendol hadn't woken, he was safe for now.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

_”I don't care what it takes! I want that appointment, even if I have to push his wife off the balcony to do it!”_

Hux clenched his jaw, refusing to open his eyes. He could hear the words like he was right there in the room with who ever this was speaking. If he looked, he'd lose it again.

Fuck, he really was finally going crazy.

Tick.

Tock.

_”Senator Ren, I really don't think that such a comment-”_

_”Frankly, I don't care if you think it's appropriate. Slamming a door in my face during a scheduled meeting time isn't appropriate either. Fix this, and fix it now. We need his signature on this bill!”_

_”It's for a bunch of refugees, Kylo. Alderaan went out of style at the end of the last Galactic decade. Why are you so riled up about this?”_

Kylo- that was something solid he could cling to. Ren Kylo? Kylo Ren- wait. Kylo Ren.

He knew that name.

He shifted, opening his eyes finally.

Tick.

Tock.

He wasn't met with his own bedroom. Instead, he was over looking some city-scape. There were speeders everywhere, zipping in and out of one another, lights like buzzing stars. Never in one place for too long.

Tick.

Tock.

He swallowed hard, turning and looking around the room. It was filled with luxuries, though a trained eye could see most of it was second rate. Designed to look nice, but made from cheaper materials. A decent office for a frugal man.

And there.

Standing before him.

Was that frugal man.

_Raven hair, catching the light so perfectly-_

Tick.

Tock.

“Who are you?” the man asked, and Hux found himself mesmerized by the bright red lip paint he wore, the soft way his lips curled and rounded as he pronounced the word 'you.'

He was gorgeous in a way that Hux wasn't sure he could ever describe. Perfectly off center, would be the first thought that came to his mind.

Their eyes locked for a split second, and the man gasped sharply, audibly, the datapad in his hand crashing to the floor. If Hux hadn't been so sure he was dreaming, he could have sworn he though he heard him thinking.

_Stormy green eyes._

_**Just like on the golden beach.** _

Tick.

There was no time to answer, to tell him his name, to ask why, of all people, he was seeing a Senator in his dreams.

Instead, he heard the blare of a digital alarm, ripping through his concentration. He blinked once, twice.

And the office was gone.

He was staring at the same familiar ceiling again.

Tock.

Brendol groaned once more, before finally sitting up. He used the hand on Hux's chest as leverage to lift himself, pressing the air out of him in a painful rush. A choked whine left him, and Brendol frowned, looking down at him.

“Something wrong, Precious?”

He shook his head quickly. 

“No. Just tired-” he excused quickly, voice cracking a touch.

The man above him gave what could best be described a grunt of disappointment and annoyance, before finally slipping out of the bed, reaching for his discarded briefs from the night before.

Hurry up and leave.

Hux wanted nothing more to do than to step into the refresher, and scrub his body until every trace of the man was gone. He needed to feel clean again.

If he was lucky, scrubbing might actually work for once.

“Come on, no lazing about, love.” Brendol chided him, making him shudder.

“Yes Father-”

They two men both froze, eyes instantly connecting, Hux's widening some, swallowing hard.

He could feel the difference in the air. The way that his father's anger was bubbling up. Sometimes, he almost imagined he could see the rising rage, like there was a legend beside his head, a key that showed the different shades of purple and red his cheeks could get, and their direct relation to the pain level Hux could expect.

He couldn't even open his mouth to start apologizing before there was a hand at his throat, pinning him down into the mattress, a desperate gagging sound all he could manage as he fought for air.

His hand instantly grabbed that Brendol's wrist, instinctively trying to pull it away from his throat, to do anything he could to breathe again.

He can feel the fingernails digging into his neck, sharps moons of pain under his ear, as white stars dotted his vision. “How many times? How many times do I have to tell you, before it gets through that stupid fucking head of yours?” Brendol shouted. “Don't call me that!”

Hux couldn't concentrate on his voice.

His eyes fluttered, and he pawed weakly at Brendol's arm.

Why wasn't he letting go? He couldn't breathe. He needed to breathe!

Just when he was starting to panic, his nails scraping across Brendol's arm, the pressure disappeared, and he scrambled away, coughing hard. He was wheezing, staring at Brendol with wide eyes, ready to try and flee if the man came closer.

“Fucking bitch-” Brendol muttered, staring at the scratch on his arm, before swinging that furious gaze back up to Hux. “You scratched me!”

“I'm-” he voice was hoarse, he could barely hear himself. “I'm sorry- m-my love.” he managed to gasp out.

Brendol sneered, picking up the robe from the end of the bed and throwing it at him, hitting him in the face with the silk. “Get cleaned up.” he snapped, before turning, stalking out of the room.

Hux watched him go, watched the door slide closed, before backing up a few steps into his bathroom.

It wasn't until the water was one, pouring over him in scalding streams, that Hux allowed himself to sink to the floor, hugging his legs and rocking on the tile.

He wasn't sure what he was more upset about.

That it had happened.

Or that Brendol hadn't actually killed him.

“Kylo.” he breathed to the air, his eyes focusing on a specific grey tile. “Kylo.”

He had a name now. He had hope. He had been there, had seen the man. Kylo Ren. That raven hair, those amber eyes when they caught the light. Those perfect, beautiful, red lips.

Kylo Ren.

That was his only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finishing the second chapter on the same day as publishing the first? Guess this is what happens when you debate whether or not to publish in the first place!


	3. Golden Stars

“It's for a bunch of refugees, Kylo. Alderaan went out of style at the end of the last Galactic decade. Why are you so riled up about this?”

Kylo turned, his mouth opening to reply, scalding words already on the tip of his tongue, when everything felt odd, wrong and yet so perfectly right in one twist of the Force around him. 

His eyes caught the out of place red first. So vibrant, so bright, so perfect against the purple haze of the city behind the man standing there. He would have thought he was an intruder, if he hadn't been able to see the faintest outline of the buildings through him.

“Who are you?” he asked. His chest felt tight, jaw flexing as he clenched it. The man wasn't looking him in the eye, for a moment, Kylo wasn't even sure that he was able to hear him.

And then they locked eyes.

The datapad fell from numb fingers, skittering across the floor noisily, Kylo's eyes widening as his breath was stolen from him in a rush.

_Stormy green eyes._

Just like on the beach. His stomach clenched, chest blooming with warmth as he went to move forward, half way to a step when he blinked, unsure of himself.

And just like that, the man was gone, empty air standing in his place.

“No!” he exclaimed, reaching out, but it was too late. His hand passed through empty cold air, fingernails digging into his palm as he stared out the window, not quite seeing anything.

He didn't have an answer.

He didn't know who he was.

“Senator? Are you alright?” Nin asked with a frown, tilting his head to the side, pink lekki draped over his shoulder. He looked confused, concerned, Kylo could feel his worry bleeding into the air.

Swallowing hard, Kylo gave a mute nod.

“It was nothing. Leave me.” The Twi'lek assistant nodded, not giving the other Senator or aide in the room a choice, herding them both out and making sure the door was shut firmly.

Kylo didn't bother to look. He could feel it. He knew they were waiting in just the other room, their emotions broadcasting to him, coloring the air around him with their insecurity, their doubt, their annoyance.

He let his hand drop finally, uncurling his fingers slowly, staring at his palm.

Turning his hand over, he studied his fingers first, trailing across his rings gently, when he noticed the gold. A single dot, out of place on the back of his hand. Small and unassuming, a faint silver line reaching up and up and up, until it met another golden dot, half hidden by his sleeve.

Kylo shifted anxiously, his breath catching in his throat as he raced to push his sleeve up, the fabric bunched tight over his elbow. 

No- he didn't have a soul mark. Everyone knew this. His skin was pale, covered with freckles, blank and loveless from head to toe.

**Alone.**

Except he had been wrong.

For so long, he had been horribly _wrong._

There, across the back of his hand, leading up to his elbow where the trail faded out- were gold stars, silver lines connecting the constellations along his skin.

He clapped his hand to his mouth, catching the choked sob that fell from his lip, blinking rapidly as the stars blurred. He didn't care that he would have to redo his make up, feeling his tears sliding down his cheek, drawing his red and black eye liner with it.

Kylo finally knew for certain, for the first time in his life-

**He wasn't alone anymore.**


	4. Purple

Careful.

He needed to be oh so careful.

Hux shifted, looking over his shoulder for what felt like the millionth time, before back to his datapad, cradled in his lap, half hidden by the bed he was sitting beside. His back hurt from sitting on the floor for so long, but it was well worth it.

He had information now.

Kylo Ren, a Republic Senator, known for radical military proposals, including openly supporting the Resistance, which was led by Leia Organa. He had spear headed several of the bills that had led to the _very_ tense peace between the Republic and the First Order. Currently, known for driving home bills to help those affected by both the Galatic Civil war years ago, and the more recent one.   
The word humanitarian got thrown around a lot, despite the fact that the majority of people he was helping weren't human, and almost every bill seemed to leave him in good financial standing.

He was also known as a fashion icon, a foul tempered party boy, and one of the few celebrities in the Galaxy with no soul mate- that was, if the lack of mark showcased in his leaked sex tape was to be believed.

He sounded like the type of person that Hux would hate spending time with honestly. However-

He licked his lips, looking down and pulling the collar of his dress aside. There it was, the trail of red, like someone had run their fingers down his chest, across the soul mark.

For so long, he had wondered exactly what this mark was supposed to be. Lightening? Waves? Something jagged and harsh, but flowing around his body like it belong there on his skin.

Now, now it looked like fire and energy bolts, steaming out in a cross from his chest, before breaking apart into smaller strands, wrapping around his right arm, and his left side. Covering him in this man's influence.

The blue dye he had been using to color it for so long made his chest look purple, where the man's fingers had trailed through him.

He didn't know how he was going to hide this from his Father, but he needed to come up with something, and quickly.

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

This was an interesting situation, stuck here, longing for a Republic Senator while the son of a First Order General.

There was a chance though. Kylo was throwing a benefit, to raise funds for a refugee fund. Hux hated parties, normally, but his father liked attending them. Liked dragging him around and showing him off.

He would convince him to secure an invitation. Somehow.

Somehow he would meet Kylo Ren.

He sighed, slipping the datapad back under his mattress, and leaning his head back against the bed. After hours of furious research, trying to finish before his father got home, he was exhausted. He just wanted to sleep.

But he couldn't get the image of that man out of his mind. The way he had looked, draped in red silk and organza, standing in a luxurious office.

He wanted to see him again.

How had he managed it the first time? He remembered wanting to escape, listening to the clock.

Well, one step at a time. Focus on what you did last time, Hux. Walk yourself through it, and see what happens.

_Tick, Tock._

His leg itched. He lost his moment shifting to scratch it.

Settling again, he took a deep breath, focusing hard, brow furrowed some as he zeroed in on that ticking, holding his breath to hear nothing but it.

_Tick._

His head was pounding.

Eyes burning.

He needed to sleep, more than anything.

He could feel his breathing slipping again and he took a hard gasp of air. Turning, he growled in frustration, shaking his head and running his fingers through his long hair, pulling at the bright red strands.

“Fuck.” he spat at the floor, before sighing.

If it wasn't for the color on his chest, he would have thought the whole thing a dream.

This was stupid. He needed to sleep.

Dragging himself into the bed, hoping he could get a few hours before Brendol returned, he pulled the covers up over himself, hiding his face from the world.

_He was on a golden beach at sunset._

_Turning, Hux gave a soft smile, taking in the familiar scene. All red and gold, bathing him in warmth, comfort, **safety**. The best feeling he could have ever asked for. He loved it here._

_He turned finally, feeling a prickle on the back of his neck, wondering what could possibly go wrong here, in his sanctuary, and freezing when he saw him. Tall, pale, stark black hair against the red sky. Beautiful in ways that Hux had never thought a man could be._

_Here. On the beach with him._

_Kylo watched him for what felt like ages, before finally moving forward, reaching out to him with a shaking hand. Hux stared at it, breath caught in his throat, eyes burning. “What's your name?”_

_Hux looked up to him, swallowing hard, before reaching out, clasping his hand tightly, threading their fingers together and never wanting to let go, watching the cobalt red slowly creeping up the mark on his arm, staining him in Kylo's colors. “Hux-” he managed to choke out finally. “My name is-”_

“Darling? Are you asleep?” Brendol's voice cut through the dream, and Hux could feel it all slip away, twisting out of his grasp, dropping into the black haze of waking.

Sitting up with a half strangled cry, he grabbed at his sheets, gasping for air and shaking, his hand tight in the blanket.

Brendol's hands were on him instantly. Wrong. So wrong. He didn't want him to touch him.

“Bad dream, dear?”

No. The best dream I've ever had. Better than life itself.

“Yes- a nightmare.” he breathed out instead, his throat tight, shoulders slumping forward.

His father frowned, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him against his chest tightly. Too tight. It hurt. “I've got you. You're safe.”

No I'm not.

Hux didn't respond. Instead, he turned into Brendol's chest, closing his eyes tight and focusing hard, so hard, on that jet black hair, the chestnut undertones near the ends-

He wanted to be back on that beach.


	5. Nothing Wrong

Those strips of purple on his chest, the red leaking through the blue dye- Hux couldn't help but notice him every time he changed, looked in the mirror, moved fast enough that his collar shifted-

They were burning, bright reminders that Kylo was out there, that he had someone to love, dear and desperate.

His entire arm was much the same. Holding hands like that had let red leech up from his fingers to about mid-bicep, so bright that even after three applications of the dye, he could barely call it purple. Bright and stark against his pale skin, the red lightening twisting around his limb like a brand.

It felt so perfect, so welcoming, the color just right for him-

And yet he couldn't stop shaking.

How many times had he almost spilled the dye? How many times had he knocked over his drink, and soaked the carpet beneath his vanity?

He held his hand up again, watching the tremors with steady eyes, his heart thrumming in his throat. Father would be home soon.

No, Hux stop. Remember. It's not Father- Brendol.

 **Brendol** will be home soon.

He took a deep breath, thankful that the man had been too tired, too drunk to realize his mark was changing color the night before. He had woken early, just to put on a shirt that covered it- but it would mean nothing. He couldn't hide his body from the man forever.

Looking up, staring himself down in the mirror, Hux steeled himself.

He had survived this long.

He could survive a while longer.

The front door opened, the chime on his datapad warning him once more, a little chime that had saved him far more than he ever could have counted.

Standing up, he double checked himself, looking himself over in the mirror, preying that just behaving, playing dumb, would save him.

He could do this. Appease Brendol at all costs, convince him you're bored, mention wanting to go to a party, talk about a fancy one you've heard about.

Senator something or other Ren's party.

The bedroom door opened and he plastered that smile on his face again.

Smile. Smile and stand.

Go through the motions you have always done.

_There is nothing wrong._

He turned, moving forward, reaching out, taking Brendol's waiting hands. “Darling, you're home-” he started, tilting his chin up already.

Be sweet.

Be perfect.

_There is nothing wrong._

Brendol's lips were chapped, dry, too hot. They tasted gross, mashed against his, the man's fat sweaty nose pressing to his cheek.

He had to force himself not to shudder, knowing he stiffened some.

Brendol was not, would never be, was no where near Kylo Ren.

_There is nothing wrong._

The man seemed to realize Hux's stiffness, pulling away and looking down at him, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear.

“Love?” he asked gently, eyes trailing down from his eyes, to his lips, to his neck, to his chest- “What's this?”

Blunt fingers touched his low collar, pushing the house robe aside.

_There is nothing wrong._

Red, blue, poorly covered purple streaks. The smell of dye, still fresh, still tacky on his skin.

_There is nothing wrong._

“What the hell is that?”

Hux swallowed hard, frowning some, giving him an apologetic look. “I don't know- They started showing up this morning. I haven't been able to cover them, darling. I'm so sorry, I know how much you love the blue.”

There was no response for a long moment, and Hux felt hope fluttering in his chest.

Forget about the colors. Move on. Get distracted, for the love of anything, Brendol.

_There is nothing wrong._

“Who is he? Which one of the servants? Is it a guard? Delivery boy? Damn it, boy! Tell me who you're letting touch you!” Brendol snapped, his voice climbing with each word, each accusation, his hands finding his biceps. Shaking, squeezing, nails digging in hard.

_There is nothing wrong._

“It's no one! I promise, I haven't let anyone touch me!” It's useless. Why does he bother?

Copper.

There's the taste of copper, flooding his tongue, spreading through his mouth, making him gasp. Cheek aching, the crack of skin on skin making his ears ring still.

Ring?

Yes. Brendol's ring.

Always makes his teeth ache.

_There is nothing wrong._

Hux stumbles back a few steps, hands at his side.

Don't fight back, it makes it worse.

He can hear Brendol screaming. He doesn't know what he's saying, only that he's angry.

Violently angry.

_There is nothing wrong._

His sleeve is pulled up. More shouting. Pain blooms in his wrist, and he barely notices the cry of pain that escapes as he's jerked to the side, dragged toward the bed.

He can make out some of what he's saying now, as he's thrown down.

“...mine... no one else can... how dare you think that-”

He doesn't care to listen. He knows what's coming next.

_There is nothing wrong._

Air hits his back, his robe feels heavy bunched up on his shoulders like this. He clenches his jaw tightly, ignoring the pain in his teeth, the way it builds behind his right eye and stays there.

There are nails on his hips, down his back, he vaguely recognizes that his legs are being forced apart.

Breathe deep, Hux. It hurts less if you remember to breathe.

_There is nothing wrong._

It burned. He can feel tears welling up in his eyes, clutching the blankets tight under him, gasping for air with each thrust, the mattress groaning.

He feels dirty.

Wrong.

What did he do to deserve this? Any of this?

His mouth still tastes like copper.

He turns his face into the blankets, hiding his sob by biting down on his lip until that too tastes like copper.

He's survived this long.

He'll survive this.

_There is nothing wrong._

_There's never anything wrong._

Somewhere, deep in his heart, the very center of his being, he can feel that dark haired man. So far away. So out of reach.

He can feel his pain.

They can feel each other's pain.

It's feeding, looping; worry, anguish, despair-

_Everything's wrong._


	6. I'm Here

Kylo was pacing, jaw clenched tight as he picked at his cuticles. His nail polish was chipped, fingers raw from being scratched at.

He was pretty sure he'd found him.

Those were the same stormy green eyes, the shock of red hair, that pale, beautifully freckled skin- and there was a man who looked so disturbingly similar, arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close.

He didn't look happy against the older man.

_Pictured: First Order General Brendol Hux (left), and husband (right)_

That didn't help much at all.

Sighing, he all but flopped into his chair, hand coming to his lips, picking at the skin lightly as he stared at the holo. It was the only picture he could find of the younger Hux. There seemed to be little to no information on the young man across the entire holonet. Searching the name Hux brought up nothing but Brendol, ancestors- one article about Merile Hux's death, during child birth, twenty two years ago.

Kylo's jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes.

That... no. He couldn't even entertain the idea of that.

That would just be... deprived.

Sighing, he leaned forward. This was ridiculous. He could feel the stirring inside him, pushing, prodding, tugging, _forcing_ him toward the only solution he could entertain.

The invitation was sitting on his table, open, ready to be sent. One button-

Reaching out, he paused, his hand just over the button, when he felt a wrenching pain in his jaw, copper flooding his mouth, making him gasp, stars in his vision.

Leaping to his feet, he grabbed his saber from it's place on his hip, looking around the room, wrist aching. Had he banged it on something?

_There is nothing wrong._

Hux?

He paused, deactivating his saber, not quite lowering the hilt as he turned his attention inward instead.

He could feel the hand on his wrist, the weight of something over his hips- burning.

Oh god- he knew exactly what this was, his hand dropping to his side, closing his eyes as he reached for Hux along the thin, barely there connection he could feel. He was in so much pain, so much fear-

_Hux- I'm here, love. I can hear you. Reach for me-_

He could feel the frenzied rush for him, the straining, barely there attention that was fighting to focus on him.

_Hux, talk to me. Please, I can help you through this, but I need you to reach for me._

There was a press back to him, and then he felt the connection, bright and so pained. _Kylo?_

He sat back down, closing his eyes, focusing on that one word, that feeling of him in his mind, so far away, so muffled by distance. _I'm here. It's me. Just focus on me, Hux._

_It hurts so much! Please-_

Kylo couldn't help the pained noise that left him, his hand covering his mouth, shaking gently as he focused on the wavering faint presence of his soul mate.

He could feel the pain looping on him, feeding into one another. Worry, anguish, despair-

_Kylo- everything's wrong. Please- please, I need-_

_I'm going to save you, Hux. I'm going to save you. I promise._

Opening his eyes, Kylo leaned forward, slamming his finger onto the send button.

_Dear General Hux, it's my pleasure to inform you that you have been invited to attend the celebration of Senator Kylo Ren's recent accomplishment of-_


	7. Red Hot

Hux's eyes went wide as he stepped out of the speeder, looking up at the large building that had been rented for the occasion.

This was where he and Brendol would be staying the weekend? That was- wow. It was even more extravagant that their home was. He felt utterly out of place yet again. Swallowing hard, he shifted, plastering himself to his father's arm, the high collar of his dress chafing the bruise on his neck, hiding the purple hand print away from the other guests.

They were greeted by a prim and proper C3 droid at the door, the golden robot ushering them in after a look at their invitation. They were VIPs, from what Brendol had said, but Hux's heart was hammering in his chest for an entirely different reason.

“Darling-” he started, looking up at him. “Do I have permission to dance tonight?” he asked softly.

Brendol's lips pursed, looking down at him. He hated dancing, refused to ever come onto the floor with Hux. He leaned in, kissing his bright red hair over his ear. “Don't be a whore about it.” he hissed.

A shiver of fear trailed down his spine, and Hux looked away. “You know I'd never do that, love.” he said softly. “I promise, it's just dancing.”

Brendol sighed, about to say something else, when he heard his name called, smiling as he broke off to join another older man, surrounded by Twi'lek women.

Hux looked around awkwardly for a moment, before wandering closer to the dance floor, his long red hair pulled back into careful curls and up to a bright, sparkling hair comb. The jewelry on his wrists felt like slave cuffs as he watched the dancers, too scared to step onto the floor just yet, eyes flickering back to his father.

He felt eyes on him, and he froze, goosebumps racing down his arms as he slowly turned back to the dance floor and dared to raise his gaze.

Amber under these lights- bright, warm, loving.

Had he ever seen someone look at him with such admiration?

“You came.”

That voice was sinful. Better in person than it had any right to be.

Kylo reached out to him, and Hux stumbled back a step, breath leaving him all at once. “If you touch me, he'll know-” he said quickly, voice shaking.

The other man looked over to Brendol, jaw flexing, before looking back to him. There was a long moment, their eyes meeting, holding. 

Honey amber. 

Fire in them.

“I'll protect you.”

Words so hot on his skin. Through his body. That hand still hanging in the air.

Heavy, hot, breathtaking.

And for the first time-

Trust.

His hand was large, warm, it felt like lightening as they touched, enveloping him. Warm, shocking, bright as it raced across his skin. So bright, so perfect, his body shivering.

Red everywhere when he looked down.

It crisscrossed along his body, in long sweeps and swirls, like a gentle caress over his skin. Bright red bolts that danced under his purple dress, along his arm, down his back, and in a large cross over his chest.

For once in his life, it felt right.

“I'm yours, Kylo-” he said softly, looking up to him. Disbelief in his voice, hand shaking in his as he was pulled forward. Flush against the other man, startled to realize they were the same height, but he was so _broad_.

Solid.

Safe.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit cathartic to write. As an abuse survivor myself, rehashing events, and the coping techniques I used can be hard, and it can be very rewarding in terms of my own recovery. Any hateful or rude comments will be deleted. This is being written and posted as a form of self healing.


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